


God, Have Mercy on My Soul

by Sobari



Category: Taboo (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, More sexual frustration, Not really sex??, One-Sided Attraction, Possessive Behavior, Some use of the n-word because it’s Thorne, Thorne POV, pinning, spoilers up to episode 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 13:01:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17264702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sobari/pseuds/Sobari
Summary: He knew of the rumors that surrounded the Delaney siblings. He knew why his wife was so cold to him. Because she has already been taken by another man. But he ignored it. She was his now.James Delaney is a nobody. A savage. There were plenty of rumors about him. Thorne could care less for a dead man. Until that dead man reappeared at after the death of his father. But what angered Thorne the most is how Zilpha's eyes blown wide, her mask fell to pieces as she glanced at her brother with a whirlwind of emotions. She never had looked athimwith the same eyes that she laid on her brother.He knew of the rumors that surrounded the Delaney siblings. He knew why his wife was so cold to him. Because she has already been taken by another man.He listened and he watched.





	God, Have Mercy on My Soul

**Author's Note:**

> I’m sorry if anything’s inaccurate. My knowledge of Christianity back in the 1800s is limited. Though honestly it's pretty limited even now. There's not much of that in the fic, but still, I hope I didn't overstep somewhere.
> 
> But I'm kinda proud with how this turned out. Thorne is actually pretty easy to write.
> 
> I literary had to stop myself from finishing Taboo or else I wouldn't even get this piece done. But now that this is done, I'm going to go back to finishing that up and painfully wait for the second season.

Occasionally, his replies would be in grunts or simple silence that left one feeling inept. That dead man, James Delaney. Like now, he gave a short grunt with a, “Good day.” and left quite coldly.

He briefly wondered what is going on in that man’s head. What secrets does this savage hide. But that was not his problem. As long as he fucking stays away from his wife and know his place. James Delaney is nothing but a nobody.

**++☬++**

He noticed that James does not do well with crowds.

He saw the subtle way his back tense, his eyes flitted wearily over faces, the way his posture goes ridge, how he would push through with a slightly quicken pace. Thorne wondered what was going on in that man’s head during those moments. He watched as James slipped away from the crowd, his coat billowing out behind him like smoke.

The nigger, Thorne concluded, was a type of creature that refused to be chained down. But god be damned if he does not try to tame this beast. He will teach him his place in Thorne’s society.

**++☬++**

He knew of the rumors that surrounded the Delaney siblings. He knew why his wife was so cold to him. Because she has already been taken by another man.

And he is currently staring at this man from where he hid. Far enough not to be seen, but close enough that he could make out the man’s face. The man sat on a fallen tree in the middle of the creek. Water licked teasingly at his boots.

He watched as James blew the ashes across the water, uttering something out of a savage tongue. He blew till there were no matter ashes left to blow. And he sat there, eyes closed. Thorne wondered again what was the man seeing.

But if he was certain of one thing, it was the proof he needed to confirm his suspicions. That thing is a devil’s servant.

His eyes raked over the older Delaney, taking in the hard features that made James a force to be reckoned with, taking in how his clothes hid what was underneath there. If someone said that Thorne thought James was attractive, he would venomously deny it till his body was six feet under.

Suddenly, James’ eyes snapped to his location as if staring straight at him. Impossible. Still, Thorne slowly moved back until he was far enough, and then he ran.

He ran till he was back in town, mingling with the people with his back pressed against the wall as he catch his breath. Slowly, he detached himself from the wall and trudged his way home. He pondered at what he had seen. Works of the devil, he’ll say.

But his mind jumped to the the electrifying way those eyes peered into the trees. It fills him with a feeling he cannot name, a thirst for something he could not quench.

He ignored it for now. He can come back to it later when he found the answer.

**++☬++**

He was in James Delaney’s office chattering about insurance before it switched to Zilpha. He boosted and he bragged in carefully drawn words as his eyes swept over the man, watching his reaction. The man’s eye twitched, eyes that were glancing upon him like dirt before is now attentive and narrowed slightly.

Blue-green eyes followed him as he took a sip out of his cup that sends sparks to his gut in such a way that it was almost pleasing. And when he stood up, it delighted him when those eyes followed. The feeling in his heart was similar to the one many days before.

He rounded the table, the man's posture looked lax, but his eyes were giving him the full attention that he deserved. He was now leaning over him, his heart hammering against his chest.

It all soon fell into place.

God have mercy on his soul. He was infatuated with the devil.

His mouth crashed against James’, feeling the softness of his lips, pressing the shorter man against the frame of his chair. He ran his fingers through the man’s hair. The feeling of the other man tense against him, before that ebbed away. Nibbling and sucking on James’ plump lips till he felt him part it enough to slip his tongue in the lion’s den. That’s right, James, just allow him in like a sweet little bird.

There was a short exchange of tongues as Thorne kissed him passionately, tilting the man’s head up to kiss him deeper. His hand trailed down his firm chest, resting on his thigh before giving it a squeeze. He could taste the sharp bitterness of coffee on James’ tongue, the taboo that lingered from his pipe, the sweetness of jam that was probably from breakfast as well. More.

His hand crept towards the man’s crouch, fondling it roughly–

Jame suddenly punched him in the gut, tossing him to the ground after delivering a punch to his face. Thorne heard him spit to the side over the roaring of his pain.

He groaned on the floor, clutching his face as James looked down at him, both literally and figuratively. Him, _a nigger,_ daring to look down on _him._ How _dare_ him hit him?!

He winced, clutching his sore abdomen now as he tried to see the man. But James’ boots moved around him, a gloved hand reached down to pick him up, bracing Thorne against him as he lead him out, “Good day.” Thorne heard him say. The chilly air rush in when the door opened. He grunted, crashing to the ground when James threw him out.

And the door slammed shut as James’ footsteps faded away. Thorne quickly gathered himself and ran off behind he could lose even more face.

**++☬++**

He knew of the rumors that surrounded the Delaney siblings. He knew why his wife was so cold to him. Because she already had been taken by another man. But he choose not to believe in those kind of talk, choose to believe that she was cold because it is simply in her nature.

Until he saw the cracks in her mask when her eyes landed on her brother upon his return. It made him angry. That she can easily show that man a world of emotions when she can’t do the same to her own husband.

The change in her was abrupt and noticeable. He wasn’t a fool. Every night he took her to bed was a night of rage. He wasn’t the one that she was seeing when he thrust into her. But he said nothing about it. But if only that damn woman embraced his honest work instead of fucking bleeding, then he wouldn’t doubt her claims about her brother.

He knows. Oh, he knows about that thing’s visits. He’s so very sure. Otherwise, why would his own wife reject him?

His drunken fingers ran over the stumbles of his cheeks, running over James’ plump lips before sliding down towards the teasing opening of his shirt. For a moment, he wanted to kiss him hard, shove him against the wall and never let him go.

Back he was reminded of how James visit his wife, how he _fucked her._

“You fucked–” He uttered in horror, in rage, “You fucked her.” He stumbled around, catching sight of Zilpha’s horror-filled gaze but he ignored it, “He fucked!” He tried to tell the them, “HE FUCKED H–” He doubled over as pain bloomed in his abdomen, but he didn’t stay there long for a choking grip came around his throat and he was leaded away from the party.

Laughters from the party died down as he was thrown on the ground unceremoniously.

James circled him like prey as he tried to recover from the sudden assault. Boots stopped in front of him, no doubt that nigger was looking down on him again, “You need some air.” He held out a hand from him. There was a strange feeling in Thorne’s chest as he took it, but it was soon replaced with anger as his wife called out the nigger’s name.

He yanked himself out of the thing’s grip and stumbled towards his wife who looked away in guilt and she should, rightfully so, “James?” She refused to meet his eyes but he continued on, _“James?_ You call this _thing,_ James?!” His rage grew when she looked back up, but not at him, behind him, “You... don’t call him anything but _nigger!”_ He swerved around to jab his finger at the thing, catching his eyes on his wife before he looked back at Thorne. His blue-green eyes was dark on this poorly lit night, it was a blank look, hiding his thoughts in the depths of his heart. And it angered Thorne when the thing didn’t react to his words.

He straightened, staring at the nigger with animosity in his own light eyes, “You fucked her.” He spatted quietly, “And you lay your hands on me, in my society!”

Hushed whispers erupted from behind him, but he could barely care with the alcohol circulating through his head, “And now I’ll have my satisfaction.”

If he can’t have him, then he’ll kill him, this devilish _thing._

“I declare it! I challenged James Delaney to a duel… to the _death. ”_ Rage and jealousy bubbled beneath his face. Rage because he could not tame James and jealousy because while the siblings want each other, neither of them, want him, “To the death. Do you accept?” The thing’s eyes were on him, yet giving him as much attention as one would give a fly.

“Do you accept?!” He snarled.

And the thing’s eyes reflected the dancing flames as his eyes moved to look past Thorne, silently staring at Zilpha.

**++☬++**

_“My apologies. That was an excellent shot.”_

The fire in his gut jumped wickedly at the praise. He even killed the traitor that sabotaged his gun. If that wasn’t a message of sorts, then what is? He could’ve killed him right there as he had all right to do.

He remember the fear coursing through him, but he held his head high, ready for his death. He had been so certain that the man wanted to kill him. Because killing him would mean no one stood in the way of him and his sister. And yet…

He abruptly stood up, leaving his wife to stew on her thoughts. He didn’t need to answer her and she didn’t need to worry about anyone’s death but her own husband.

_“That was an excellent shot.” James’ blue-green eyes were sincere as his words before they regard him as nothing more but nought. But it was there._

Something in his chest pulled taut, fluttering in his belly and tingled at his fingertips. James’ smooth voice rang pleasingly in his ear while James’ gaze made his chest fluttered.

Thorne pushed those feelings away, headed himself into work to forget whatever treacherous emotions that just threatened to well up within him. He entered his studies and locked the door behind him with a single click.

**++☬++**

When he heard James’ name from Zilpha’s lips, he saw red. His hand fitted so perfectly around her delicate neck.

“Take him out.” _You don’t deserve him,_ “Come on, take him out.” _He is not yours to keep._ “Out!” He leaned down with rage on his face, his grip tightening around her, “Get him out!”

She spit at his face. His mind took seconds to agree with her actions, “Yes, that’s right. Good girl. Spit him out.” _Be with me instead._ He urged her to spit and so she did. He still have control. James was not hers to keep. She cannot lock him in her body forever.

He slapped her as if it would release James from her body. She slapped back. Defiance. From who? The brother or the sister. Or both.

In the rage and flails of fists and shouts, they both ended up on the floor, his wife still from under him and him breathing heavily. He pulled her up against the bed, stroking her head as if he didn’t just punch sense into her.

“You need a priest. My dear.”

He tells himself that this was for his wife. To help her from the devil’s grasps. But nothing made him forget of his thoughts in the moments of rage.

_That man is not yours to have. My dear._

**++☬++**

Her screams rang in the air as the priest did his work. It’s painful, he knows. But it’ll be over soon. It’ll be good for his wife. But his heart was not in it.

In Zilpha’s place, he saw James, laying there, presenting himself to Thorne. Zilpha cried in anguish, James did the same, tugging at the rope like a wild beast. They were the same, yet not. Zilpha screamed and he heard James screaming as the priest expel the wicked demons from his body– no, _Zilpha’s body._  The devil’s hold was too tight around him, yet he couldn’t bring himself to ask the priest to remove its’ hold over him.

He’s doing this for his wife, he told himself, saving her from the sins, making her holy as possibly to God. But deep down, he knew that she would be dirty no matter what. That deep down, he still wanted James Delaney to himself.

“Amen.” The priest said.

It took Thorne a moment to realized that the deed was done, “Amen.” He quickly said after. His eyes lingered on his wife’s body, now still and quiet. Delicate, “Can we untie her now?” He looked up at the leaving priest.

“Give her a few moments.” He said, plugging the small vial of holy water, “Let her reflect… and then recover.” As the priest left, Thorne soon followed after, taking one last look at his wife, oh pitiful wife before wrenching his eyes away.

After escorting the priest out the door with his thanks and payment, he himself head to his bedroom where he sat on the edge of the bed and dragged his hand down his face. His thoughts jumped to James again, the nigger’s dark and mysterious eyes burn into his very soul. He tried to burn the visions away, but the demons lingered at the edge of his mind, beckoning him to slip down into desire.

His hand moved down to the growing heat in his trouser, closing his eyes and imagined.

He imagined burying himself in the warmth of the other man, imagining James shaking under him as he tug at the ropes the binds his wrists. He snapped his hips mercilessly into him, turning the man under him into a mess. He would explore every inch of the man’s body, kissing the defining scar on the man’s eye, discover every tattoo that decorated his savageness, setting the fire of pleasure through his every being. Thorne fleetingly wondered if James had ever begged. He highly doubt that, yet the man uttering silent pleads beneath him with his body was something Thorne desire to see. To feel the man’s powerful legs wrapping around his waist, rolling his hips against him so erotically, begging for more.

And more he would give him, till he would think nothing but Thorne and only Thorne. He want the savage to fall apart completely by his hands. He was in control now. He would capture those soft lips with his own, devouring those wicked sounds, tasting the brandey on the man’s tongue. Briefly, he wondered what it felt like to have those same lips around his cock.

A shudder of excitement ran through him at the thought.

He would continue to penetrate James, claiming him, marking every inch of his body. Only when he was close was when he allowed James his release. The man would shake violently under him as he once again captured those lips in his, swallowing his sounds of ecstasy as those dark eyes went dazed with pleasure and of Thorne as he would still be thrusting into him, not letting James gain a rational mind. Not allowing him to think of anything but _him._ So close, yet he was waiting for something.

Say it, James. _Say it._

The man uttered a name breathlessly between lips, _“Thorne.”_

Fluid covered Thorne’s hand as he laid back against the bed. He raised his semen covered hand and looked at it before clenching it into a fist. He wished to meet James in his dreams, still wishing to make James his. To keep him under lock and key, hidden away from other's eyes. He want to– he _will_ tame him.

God have mercy on his soul… for he have sinned.


End file.
